They'll Never Alter Drapes In Storybrooke Again
by writetherest
Summary: When Regina decides the mansion needs redecorating, who else would she call but Sugarbakers and Associates?


**Author's Note:** Written for the Crossing Over challenge at OnceUponALand. I blame fictorium for everything.

* * *

Regina sat in her large, empty mansion, staring at the walls. It was everything she'd ever wanted – winning, coming to this new land – until it became unsatisfying so quickly. Then there had been the debacle with Kurt and – she shook her head, not willing to dwell on it anymore.

She'd done what she had to do. She'd protected herself and her town. She wouldn't think about it anymore.

But she had to do something to get herself out of this rut. And as her eyes scanned the room yet again, she knew just what it was.

"I'll redecorate. Yes. A queen lives in this house. It's time to make it look like it. Now, to hire a decorator." She stood up and moved with purpose towards her home office.

She'd hire the best decorating team she could find and once the house was redone to her liking, she'd feel so much better. She was sure of it.

* * *

"Julia, where is it, exactly, that we're going again?" Suzanne whined as she looked out the window and saw nothing but trees.

"Storybrooke, Maine, Suzanne." Julia replied, "As I've told you exactly thirty seven times since we boarded the plane."

"Well," Suzanne frowned, crossing her arms in a huff, "I just don't see why we had to fly all the way to Maine to decorate this person's house. There are plenty of people in Atlanta whose houses we could decorate without all this fuss."

"Because, Suzanne, this person has money. M-O-N-E-Y. And we need a client like that right about now." Mary Jo told her. "Plus, she's paying all our expenses. So think of it as a little vacation, huh?"

"A vacation?" Suzanne laughed. "Going to a little backwater town in the middle of nowhere is hardly my idea of a vacation. Now, if she lived in Italy and wanted to fly us there, that's one thing. But we may as well be going to Poplar Bluff right now."

"Hey!" Charlene protested. "I don't appreciate you saying things like that about my hometown, Suzanne. Although this does remind me a bit of home."

"I rest my case."

"Suzanne, could you please, for the love of god, just shut up?"

"Fine. But how much farther do we have to go?"

"About twenty more miles, according to the directions I was given, Suzanne."

"Well then, you should put the pedal to the metal and get us there, shouldn't you Anthony?"

Anthony glanced over with a frown at Suzanne. "Yes ma'am, Miss Sugarbaker. I'm a fixin' to get us there right quick." He deadpanned.

"Well, you don't have to be snippy about it."

Silence settled over the van until they passed by the 'Welcome To Storybrooke' sign.

* * *

"Wow." Charlene breathed as they climbed out of the van in front of 108 Mifflin Street.

"You can say that again." Mary Jo agreed, taking in the sight of the large white house.

"Wow." Charlene repeated.

"How many people did you say live here, Julia?" Mary Jo asked.

"Just the one, from what I'm aware. A Ms. Mills. Ms. Regina Mills. She's the mayor of the town."

"Wow."

"Charlene, if you say 'wow' one more time –"

Suzanne's threat was cut off by the opening of the front door. Julia moved up the path to greet Regina.

"Ms. Mills, I'm Julia Sugarbaker. We spoke on the phone."

"Yes." Regina nodded, looking the woman over. She had an accent that Regina had never heard before – she assumed she was from a different kingdom in this world than Regina's own. "It's nice to meet you."

"And you." Julia turned to the group behind her, "Let me introduce the rest of my team. This is my sister, Suzanne, my associates Charlene and Mary Jo and our delivery man, Anthony."

"Well," Regina pressed her hands down her skirt, smoothing out wrinkles that weren't there. "Shall we begin?"

"Of course. Why don't you tell us a bit about what you're thinking of and we'll show you some samples, see what we can come up with."

Regina showed them into the house after giving Anthony directions to Granny's so that he could secure them rooms for the evening. "I suppose I'm looking for something a little more… regal than what decorating has already been done. Something more befitting my station."

"Mayor." Charlene smiled, looking around the already rather stately manor.

"No," Regina smiled, baring her teeth. "Queen."

"Really?" Suzanne exclaimed with a wide smile. "You're a queen too? Oh, I love to meet other pageant girls! Let me guess, Miss Maine 1977? '78?"

"I beg your pardon?" Regina stared at her as though she was speaking another language.

"Well, when you said queen, I assumed you meant beauty queen. Like me. I actually have 11 titles, including Miss Georgia World 1976." Suzanne beamed and posed accordingly.

"Oh no. I didn't mean that I was… what did you call it? A beauty queen? No. I meant, Ms. Sugarbaker, that I am an actual queen."

* * *

"Julia," Suzanne pulled her sister into the study with Mary Jo and Charlene following quickly behind, "you cannot honestly be considering working for this woman."

"Oh no, Suzanne, I'm not considering it at all." Julia affirmed, but just when Suzanne took a relieved breath, she continued, "I'm doing it."

"Julia! The woman thinks she's a Queen! And not just any Queen, oh no, she thinks she's the Evil Queen from fairy tales!" Suzanne ranted, remembering the rather jarring conversation they'd just had with Regina.

"I'm sure she's just had a real hard life, Suzanne." Charlene defended, thinking of the rather vacant look in Regina's eyes as she'd spoken about her need to redecorate. There was obviously something missing in her life – something more than a new sofa or drapes.

"You know, I've heard of something like this!" Mary Jo exclaimed. "It's called... dissociative identity disorder. She's probably blocking out some kind of trauma. So, you know, instead of dealing with whatever it is, she just becomes someone else."

"Trauma? Like what, Mary Jo, a neighborhood child choking to death on an apple? No. I'm sorry, but that woman's nuttier than Bernice, and that's sayin' something!"

"Suzanne, I don't care if she thinks she's Goldilocks and all Three Bears put together, her money is real and we're gonna take it!" Julia snapped. "So stop worrying about it and get out there to pick out the things for her bedroom."

"Yeah, and make sure the mattress she picks for her new bed is just right!" Mary Jo called after her.

"Mary Jo!" Charlene smacked her arm.

"What? Dissociative disorder or just plain fruitcake, you have to admit, it's kind of funny."

* * *

"Now when you say curse," Charlene began later, when they were looking over samples of wallpaper for the living room, "when you say that you cast a curse over everyone, what kind of curse are you talking about here? Because I really think that poison apple was a little too far for poor Snow White."

"No it wasn't, Charlene!" Suzanne spoke up before Regina could, which was probably good with the way that her eyes seemed to be blazing at the mention of 'poor Snow White', "That little brat thought she was the fairest of them all. I know girls like that from my pageant days. They're no good, believe me. I say Regina here was justified in what she did. Heck, if Snow White was here now, I'd get out my gun and shoot her myself!"

"That could easily be arranged." Regina smirked.

"How about we take a look around upstairs. You know, instead of killing any princesses for the time being?" Mary Jo suggested, already moving toward the grand staircase. "I think we've gotten some real good ideas for down here already."

"Yes, I suppose the upstairs would be prudent." Regina stood and moved past Mary Jo to ascend the stairs. "There are several guest bedrooms that need redone, as well as my own room and my home office."

"Ca-ching." Mary Jo mouthed to Julia who just shook her head, but smiled.

* * *

"Oh," Charlene murmured when they entered the last of the guest bedrooms. It was roomy and airy, with a large window that looked out onto a beautiful tree. "This is just beautiful. Girls, isn't it beautiful?"

"It is lovely." Julia agreed, moving over to look at the window.

"For a guest bedroom, I suppose it's nice enough."

"Suzanne!" Mary Jo scolded, but she just shrugged.

"What, Mary Jo? It is a guest bedroom, for guests. Not a master suite. I don't know what you want me to get excited about."

"Well, I think it's beautiful. And it'd make a gorgeous nursery some day." Charlene said as she ran her hands over the walls. "That forest wallpaper you found would just look darling in here, Mary Jo. And it'd be just like the magic forest."

"Enchanted forest." Regina corrected, her tone sharp. "And this is a guest bedroom. It will never be anything other than a guest bedroom."

"Never? You mean you don't want children ever? Oh, I just can't imagine that. We all have children. Well, Suzanne had a pig, but it was the same thing for her."

Regina eyed Suzanne. "A pig?"

"Noel was very well behaved, thank you. And I'd think you of all people wouldn't have anything to say about it. After all, didn't all the animals in your world talk or something?"

"No."

"Well, that's just silly then. In fairy tales, animals talk. So either you're from a fairy tale world where animals talk or you aren't."

"I assure you, Ms. Sugarbaker, that I am from a fairy tale world and that our animals did not talk. If you'd like me to show you my powers, I would be more than happy to demonstrate. My specialty is collecting hearts." She flexed her fingers. "Would you like to see?"

"Now, now," Mary Jo stepped between Suzanne and Regina, "Suzanne's just a little confused about this whole curse business. As we all are, I'm sure you understand."

Regina moved back a small step. "This is a guest bedroom. I want it done similarly to the others. I trust you'll make wise choices. I'll go write out the check for your expenses. I expect the work to be done within the week."

"The week? But that's –"

"That's just fine." Julia soothed.

"Do you really not want to have children ever?" Charlene asked, still unable to come to terms with that fact.

"It is not an option, Mrs. Stillfield."

"Because of Snow White?" Suzanne wondered.

"Because I am poison." Regina declared and turned to leave the room.

"Now wait just a minute." Julia called, stopping her. "Who told you that?"

"I'd think it would be obvious. I am The Evil Queen in your stories after all."

"Well, I mean, you could certainly stand to be a little nicer to people, but I don't think you're evil." Charlene assured.

"It doesn't matter. Even if I wanted a child, I couldn't have one."

"Why? Because you're single? Who cares about that? There are plenty of ways to have a child without being tied down to a man. Go to a sperm bank. That's what I'd do." Mary Jo encouraged.

"And there's always adoption." Suzanne added, thinking of Li Sing.

"Adoption?"

"Yes, you know, when you adopt a child that doesn't have a family, so that legally they become your child."

"Adoption." Regina whispered again, considering the term. "But how would that make me a mother? If I didn't give birth to the child then it would just be as though…" Regina trailed off, not wanting to think about the miserable years she'd spent as Snow's de facto mother, always knowing that she was just a replacement. She couldn't do that again.

"Now you listen here, Regina Mills." Julia said and everyone in the room waited for what was about to come. "I don't know where you come from or what your beliefs are there, but I will tell you something right now, just because you did not give birth to a child through conventional means or even at all does not mean that you are not a mother. Just because there is not a man in the picture does not mean that you are not a mother. I continued to raise my children by myself when my husband died. Mary Jo is the primary caregiver to her children because she is divorced. We may not be 'conventional' cases, but that in no way makes us less of a mother. And just because you did not give birth to a child, that does not mean that you cannot love it and raise it just as well, if not better, than those who did. So I'll tell you now, that there is nothing wrong with adopting a child and that as long as you love that child then you are, most certainly, cut out to be a mother. And if that's not what they believe in the Enchanted Forest, then I say it's a damn good thing you cursed yourself here, where we do believe it!"

Silence fell over the room then, as Regina continued to stare at Julia, taking in everything she'd just said. Tricking children and forcing them in the past had never worked, but perhaps what she said – what all of these strange women – said had some merit. It was certainly something to consider. Although it was for another day. Today, they had decorating to do.

"Well. You certainly make an interesting argument, Ms. Sugarbaker. However, for the time being, this will remain as a guest bedroom." She turned to look at Mary Jo. "I would, however, be interested in seeing that forest wallpaper for my office at Town Hall. Perhaps you'd like to redecorate it for me as well?"

"Of course! I have the swatches just downstairs. And I don't know how you feel about horses – talking or otherwise – but I've got a horse statute that I think would accent it beautifully." Mary Jo jumped on the offer quickly. "Why don't we go take a look at them and discuss seating? I've got some ideas about leather chairs and maybe a sofa in silver."

"Well," Suzanne sighed once Mary Jo had lead Regina downstairs, "I still say she's crazy. But she does pay well. Now, where do we go to get food in this place?"

* * *

Regina watched as the van drove over the town line a week later, taking the Sugarbaker Design Firm with it. She felt a small pang as she watched the taillights disappear. The women had certainly shaken up her life and she'd considered for a while what it might be like to keep them in Storybrooke. But they had lives and families back in Atlanta (wherever that was) and she couldn't find it in herself to destroy them as she'd destroyed so many others. Not when they'd been so kind to her.

It was sad to think that they'd never remember what they'd done for her in this week. But that, Regina was beginning to realize, was part of the price she had to pay.

So she turned away and went back to her newly decorated house that was beginning, slowly, to feel like home. And if she peeked into the guest bedroom with the tree growing outside its window and thought what it might look like painted blue or pink some day, no one else was any the wiser. But she wondered, as she prepared for bed that evening, if the Sugarbakers designed nurseries too.


End file.
